The Arms of an Angel
by Cole. Just Cole
Summary: dark!Harry Harry has been wronged his entire life, and Fate got tired of it. full summary/prelude inside!
1. SummaryPrelude

_I was reading Harry Potter when I decided to write my own. My writing tends to be dark so be warned!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series, J.K. Rowling does._

Summary

There was no emotion other than pure, agonizing hate… and Azrael would have it no other way. This world once so full of wonder had now coming crashing down in glorious chaos around the harbinger… the angel of death. This world that had tried to change him, corrupt him, manipulate him, but no more. The little orphan that they had thrust blindly into the world of magic was awakened to his true destiny. Fate smiled down at her fallen angel, he was finally free of his oppressors, free to live his life as he deserves, and with those of his choosing. Fate had laid down the future of man into his arms to do as he wished. All of those who had wronged him would be punished. For their fate was put into the arms of an angel.

_I don't know if I'll have any kind of pairings in here... But I put the possibility there just in case! _

_REVIEW! Let me know if I should keep on writing!_


	2. 1 Shattered Soul Among the Glass

_Well here's chapter 1! Sorry I accidentally loaded this before I was ready... So I hope you like it!_

Chapter 1: Shattered Soul Among the Glass

"Wake up Boy!" a very angry Vernon Dursley yelled at a cupboard under the stairs. "Dudders is hungry and there is no breakfast on the table!"

With a groan a boy with emerald eyes woke up to a new day. "Boy!" he heard his uncle yell again. Fearing his uncle's wrath he cried out, "Coming Uncle Vernon!"

As quickly as his aching, broken body would allow the ten-year-old boy quickly crawled out of his 'bedroom'. On an ankle that was clearly broken he limped into the kitchen to cook his families breakfast. He had just finished frying the bacon when he heard his cousin thundering down the stairs. Yes, thundering, although that may have been to 'light' of a word for his enormous cousin. Dudley Dursley was about the same age as 'Boy', but their age was the only thing they had in common. Dudley was at least the size of a small whale where 'Boy' was skeletal. Dudley had no neck, a head full of course looking straw hair, and squinty, watery blue eyes.

"Daddy!" the whale… err… I mean Dudley wailed. "I'm hungry and the Freak is taking forever making my food!"

"Boy! Hurry up with that food! We can't have my poor son starving himself," Vernon said, Vernon was an even larger replica of his prize son.

"Yes Uncle," 'Boy' replied meekly. Now, 'Boy' wasn't his real name, but it might have well as been, he had been called 'Boy' or Freak for as long as he could remember. His real name was Harry Potter, but only at school, anywhere else it was back to Boy and Freak. In truth, he resented his name, who he was had only ever brought him pain and suffering. You see, Harry is an orphan, his parents dying in a car crash when he was quite young. He hated them for it. If his father hadn't been drunk he wouldn't have crashed, and thus causing Harry to grow up hated by his only family.

Harry quickly finished preparing his families breakfast and served the table. As his family ate he washed the dishes. When he was putting away his Aunt's glass serving dish he felt a hand sharply push him to the floor, and the glass dish with it. With horror in his green eyes, he watched the dish smash on the floor, sending glass everywhere in the kitchen, including into his soft flesh leaving numerous cut all over his exposed skin.

"Boy!" he heard his Aunt screech. "Oh, Vernon! Just look what he did to my dish!"

With an animalistic yell his Uncle came barreling towards him, with a heart-wrenching sigh, Harry accepted his fate. He was used to it by now. Sure it always hurt, but he now quickly became numb to his Uncle's beatings. With silent tears pouring down his face, Harry curled into a ball, hoping to protect his face and stomach from his Uncle's punches and kicks.

After a only a few short minutes the beating stopped, Harry lifted his head in confusion and what he saw made his heart momentarily stop beating. His Uncle had picked up one of the larger pieces of glass and was coming towards him. Harry started to back away in fear, but it did no good. Grabbing onto his oversized shirt, Vernon ripped it from Harry's body. Then, he pinned Harry to the ground and began carving into the sobbing teens back. Racked with pain and fear, Harry finally entered into the blessed darkness of unconsciousness. Sensing his victim's state, Vernon finished his carving and then unceremoniously dragged his nephew to his cupboard and threw him face first onto the shelf that served as his bed. Chuckling at the boys state Vernon then left to clean up the evidence in case a neighbor should come to visit.

As the abused boy lay in his comatose state a slight glow appeared around his body, healing the bruises, sealing his open wounds and setting his bone so his ankle healed right. The light, however could not remove Vernon's work on his body, so while he was no longer in extreme pain, he would always have the scars that Vernon caused. Among his old brands of 'Bastard, 'Orphan', and 'Boy', his body now held the word, 'Freak'. With a heavy sigh, Harry curled into a ball, dreaming of the day when he would forever be rid of his relatives, he just hoped he would live that long.

_So how was it? Review and let me know!_


	3. 2 The Letter in Emerald Ink

_I am so sorry! I know this is short but hopefully I'll find the words to write another chapter soon! College and word have managed to keep me away (plus the lack of inspiration). Hope you enjoy this little addition! _

Chapter 2:

'Boy' awoke slowly the next morning, he allowed himself to do so since no one was screaming at him yet. He started to move but then he shifted carefully as memories of the abuse from the night before entered his mind. Yet, when he moved it didn't hurt nearly as bad as it should have… Oh great… he thought, another way to show how much of a freak I am… Uncle will not be happy about this.

This had happened before. Every time his uncle gave him a new scar he would miraculously be healed the next morning… With only the scar to prove the abuse had ever been real. He wished that his body wouldn't do this though; he was always blamed for it even if he didn't know how it happened in the first place.

Harry sat up and stared out the small slates on his cupboard door. For one so young his emerald green eyes showed a sadness way beyond his years, a sadness that no one should ever know. He couldn't stop his mind from wondering… from dreaming of a life so different than the one he had been given. A life of freedom and happiness… a whole different world than the one he knew… If only it could be real.

* * *

"Boy! Go get the mail!" Uncle Vernon commanded as Harry finished placing his relatives breakfast on the table.

Without saying anything 'Boy' simply walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway to retrieve the mail. He reached down and grabbed the small stack of letters piled on the doorstep. He shuffled through them as he slowly walked towards the kitchen to pass some time. Bill… Aunt Marge… Bill… Harry Po… Wait, that was his name! On an oddly thick envelope written in emerald ink were the words 'Harry Potter, The Cupboard under the stairs.'

_Reviews are always welcome and thank you to those who have already! _


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